Arcana Macabre
by Sever Alucard
Summary: The new Arch-Mage plans on expanding the Guild, and legalising many of the 'immoral' disciplines of magic. Will this prove beneficial to the University? A Novice Mage in the Arcane University is taken on as a private Apprentice by the new Arch-mage.
1. Education through Retribution

_I have just given chapters 1 and 2 a re-vamp, so they arent so crummy anymore._

* * *

**Arcana Macabre**

**Education Through Retribution**

A Dunmer dressed in casual high class clothing sits in the middle of the guild symbol on the floor of the Arch-Mage' residence, surrounded by alchemy apparel set out accordingly around his crossed legs. The test subject; a Breton lying stiff with a bloated face, distorting any natural features, is spralled out before him. The content Dunmer finishes his translucent creation with a vaporous emanation of steam and turns his head to grin warmly at the immobile body laid out before him, "This should reduce the swelling, but you'll feel some intended side effects". The Dunmer pulls out a delicate but sharp blade, coats it with the thin, potent fluid and without hesitation presses it mercilessly under the subjects skin.

The Bretons face begins to deflate, gurgled screams of terror and agony wheezing up his constricted throat passage slowly turn back to humanly cries. The Breton gains a surge of strength and uses it to turn his head in the direction of his experimenter, they exchange eye contact for a silent moment before the man stops breathing as if to concentrate, his facial expressions contort, the veins and tendons in his neck protrude from his flesh, revealing to the Dunmer the successful effects of his concoction. The pulsing Breton grows red and his disrespondant body begins trembling with the futile attempts to brace through the pain, as he thrusts his chin towards the roof, the presence of the Dunmer's partner observing from a dark corner of the Arch-Mages quarters is revealed to him, 'Dannyl!' is the one word that flashes through his mind. The silent observer stares back at the subject disregardingly.

"Oh, from the look in your eyes you appear to be surprised of my presence" Dannyl says before turning to the Dunmer. "What does the Brugmansia do once you've refined it with the Monkshood?" He questions.

"I assume your asking what the individual effects of the said ingredients are, rather than the over-all brew?" inquires the Dunmer

"Uh, yeah just the two"

The Breton pushes his teeth together, trying to understand the alchemically experienced exchange of words between the two cruel intellectuals. His teeth grind harder and harder until they split and crack into his bleeding gums.

"-infects the blood cells with Heamofyre, causing a sensation of intense burning from the inside, and also in fact making him incredibly flammable, if my hypothesis is indeed correct"

"Your talking like one of the scholars again Mor'Tar" Dannyl laughs.

"I know, I seem to get carried away in my thoughts, listening to them speak 'a matter of factly' to each other tends to rub-off on me"

Dannyl looks back down at the Breton.

"We usually find subjects in better places, but your an exception, Fergun, this is your punishment for spreading the rumours about us" Nodding his head towards Mor'Tar

The Breton struggles with an attempt to deny the accusation.

"What's the point in denying when I read it straight from your thoughts" Mor'Tar says with feigned puzzlement.

"We never did share an amiable relationship did we Fergun, in fact, I seem to remember your disdain towards Mor'Tar when he was a mere novice, you didn't expect he'd rise to become the Arch-Mage now did you?"

Fergun' s body ceases trembling and the air slowly exits his lungs, red fills the white of his eyes, produced from popped blood-vessels. His skin begins to darken and an aroma of burning flesh fills the room. Smoke rises from the blackening skin and the faint sound of sizzling rings in Mor'Tar's ears. Fergun' s skin bubbles with heat, and splits to reveal glowing hot flesh beneath, his eyes shrivel in his sockets and recess into his skull. Small flickers of fire slowly erect from the splits in his skin.

"Damn, i was planning on restorating him before he died" Mor'Tar hisses, nulling the flames.

"Is he dead?"

"Yeah, looks like we'll need a new subject" Mor'Tar sighs casually.

"C'mon it's not a long walk to the Marie Elena, besides we haven't taken a stroll through the City in ages"

* * *

Mor'Tar pushes the door open to reveal a room containing many people; bruised and gaunt, bound by magic to the floor. The skeletal forms look up at the pair. Their dilapidated bodies easily influenced by the sway of the ship.

"Go on." says Mor'Tar.

"What?"

"It's your turn to pick."

Dannyl smiles then turns his head towards the pale crowd.

_**

* * *

**_

I sit here among the others, watching my..._our_, capturer's predatory glare traverse from prisoner to prisoner. My heart-beat quickens as the taller one - the one who led me here - glances at me, he looks away dismissively, then my fear ascends as the other - the one with the desicion of who is the next victim - looks at me meaningfully.

"This one" he says.

"Matthias Draconis" The other states, then adds "I spose we should; considering he's meant to be dead anyways"

The man dressed in mages robes points at me. "You, come."

I remain against the wall in fetal position, fearfully defying his inexperienced command.

The immaculately dressed man turns his head towards me, his hard eyes dominate my very soul.

"Matthias" He says calmly, then sternly adds; "You have been summoned, now stand"

I find myself rising immediately, almost trusting the gentleness of his voice.

"Come with us Matthias, we'll take you to your family"

I slowly trail behind him, believing his promise, but knowing it's a lie.


	2. Spectral Sorrow

_I hope this next chapter isnt a little too rich. But I plead my innocence; Im not a rambling madman_ ^_^

* * *

Dannyl thought back on the last two days; two days ago they had brought Matthias Draconis up to the Arch-Mages quarters, and Mor'tar seemed to have been lost in thought ever since. Mor'tar had made a sound proof bubble in the room and just left Matthias there, somehow Dannyl came to the conclusion that Mor'tar has different plans for him.

"…..That didn't entirely answer my question, we had been planning on using Matthias for more practical lessons on poisoning; but you've changed your mind, haven't you?" Dannyl grew irritated at the lack of a solid answer from Mor'tar.

"Yes, I have, only because I have discovered that Matthias here has the required soul to perform another project I have planned out, I'm glad we didn't kill him, like we were required to"

"Oh yeah, I never got around to asking you; do you think the BlackHand will have known you neglected killing _every_ member of the Draconis family?"

"I'm not sure, but I doubt it"

Leaving it at that; Dannyl asked "And what is this project you have planned?"

"We are going to be conjuring a Magnosanguis" Mor'tar said without thinking, as if expecting the question.

"Whats that" Dannyl tilted his head in curiousity.

"A Magnosanguis is a person that has roamed the Apocrypha of Hermaeus Mora for over a thousand years, and has taken a spectral form" Mor'tar explained as they slipped on their robes.

"And so what exactly does _he_ have to do with it?" Nodding his head towards the scared Matthias sitting silently on the far side of the room.

"Well, when you linger for such a prolonged time in the realm of Hermaeus Mora, you become bound to the realm; and so, we need to temporarily un-bind the spectral-being of a Magnosanguis, but in doing so; you cannot bring it _entirely_ into our plane of existence-"

"So he's going to be a vessel for the Magnosanguis" Dannyl quickly concluded.

"Yeah, and as I vaguely mentioned before; he has the necessary soul a Magnosanguis requires to inhabit" Mor'tar' s mouth half curled up-wards with his usual half – but genuine – smile.

"Elaborate," Dannyl leans against the table that Mor'tar is stationed at.

"For a being such as a Magnosanguis, they can only possess the soul of a being with a similar soul, in a way, they temporarily meld together to produce the materialisation of the Magnosanguis. Think of it like this; you cant breed a bear with a wolf, you need two of the same species to produce off-spring, it's the same with a soul, the materialisation can only occur when two of the same soul are amalgamated."

"Your lessons are getting more and more complicated Mor'tar," He sighed.

"Oh, this won't just be a lesson, this is going to help in a much grander plan."

Dannyl didn't ask any more questions as they finished getting ready for the day. They proceeded down through the Arch-mages tower and out of the University.

"So we're not working in the University grounds today?" Dannyl inquired once they had egressed outside.

"You know how I've been rambling on about the inferior size and structure of the Arcane University, well now that I'm Arch-Mage I have the authority to expand it."

"Is that your 'grand-plan' you were refering to? But doesn't the Emperor, or the next most powerful figure in the council have a say in that?"

"I've already looked into it, and it seems my predecessors were dearth of ambition." Mor'tar gestured outwards towards the vacant terrain behind the University, "See all this land; the ruling head of the University actually owns all the contiguous soils behind the University building._ I_ intend to fully utilize _all_ the land we own."

"_We?_ You mean _you_" Dannyl said incredulously.

Mor'tar anticipated the correction, "If it wasn't for your acceptance and friendship, I wouldn't have had the willpower to deal with keeping up my studies in the University as a novice, besides; it's not just going to be _me_ doing the renovations, your helping. The University is ours, not mine" Mor'tar smiled gratefully. Dannyl responded with an involuntary grin.

"And what does all this have to do with the Magnosanguis?" Dannyl thought back.

"We're going to use the soul of one to create the library."

Dannyl' s puzzled look kicked Mor'tar into an elaboration.

"I wanted the library to be ever-growing, so I began to think; how can I make a self-developing building? And the answer came almost instantly. Trees!" Mor'tar said with ascending enthusiasm.

"Trees?" Dannyl criticised.

"Yes. Trees are ever-growing, they get their means to grow from the environment itself, but, the tree we are growing will get its nutrience from a more abstract source," Mor'tar paused to consider his next words.

"And what will this source be?" Dannyl interrupted his contemplation. Mor'tar gave him a spirited smile.

"Knowledge!" He almost shouted.

There was a long, awkward pause.

"Wow! I'm really confused," Dannyl laughed. "Again; what does this have to do with a Magnosanguis?"

"Sorry, ugh…." Mor'tar sat on a boulder. "I should tell you more of what a Magnosanguis really is."

"Please do!" Dannyl exhaled.

"A Magnosanguis is a mortal that has traversed over to the realm of Hermaeus Mora with nothing to live for. They are mortals that have given their life to Mora knowing full well the consequence, but being so enveloped in despair they willingly sold their soul, or, they have gone to Mora's realm as a last resort to find hope. You do know the details of Mora's realm don't you?" Mor'tar inquired.

"'Hermaeus Mora is the Daedric prince of the past, present, and future. His realm is the Apocrypha; which is a perpetually infinite library, containing books of powerful and forbidden knowledge.'" Dannyl recited informingly. "This has something to do with why you made me study the Daedric Princes isn't it?"

"Yes, and when a mortal finds himself in the endless halls of Apocrypha, he becomes obsessed with expanding his knowledge. After spending over a thousand years in the Apocrypha, you can imagine how vast their level of erudition would be. But there are many who have spent that much time in the halls and still haven't achieved the level of wisdom as a Magnosanguis has. A Magnosanguis is a mortal that has achieved immortality in the realm of Mora, and has experienced great sorrow as a mortal. With pain and sadness comes wisdom, and with wisdom comes knowledge."

"So they are of a higher spiritual level?" Dannyl caught on.

"You remember me saying that this tree we're growing will grow on knowledge?"

"Don't worry, I'm keeping up with you, mostly…."

"We are going to instil the soul of a Magnosanguis into a dead tree, and that will bring the tree to life, also instigating growth. When its big enough, we will be able to start building the library inside the tree-" Mor'tar stopped abruptly. "But let's not generate any preconceptions, for now we need to concentrate on the conjuring of the Magnosanguis, and work from there."

"So what's our first move Arch-Mage?" Dannyl teased.

"We have to prepare the ritual for the conjuration," Mor'tar glanced over the river in deep thought.


	3. Preparation

_This one is a little shorter._

* * *

"All this is what you've been working on during the last couple of weeks isn't it, when's the last time you slept?" Dannyl accused while scanning through the complex diagrams and notes.

"I haven't deprived myself of sleep just for the fact that I have been utilising the time, the energy I exhibit while in a state of deprivation will also play a part in the invocation" Mor'tar stated.

Dannyl guided his thoughts through the complicated process that Mor'tar had repetitively gone through with him; _glyphs are to be carved into Dannyl' s palms, and two more just below Mor'tar' s eyes. Two dead bodies were to be placed on either side of Dannyl, and Mor'tar is to stand close behind Dannyl, keeping skin contact. The contact is to ensure that the magicka Mor'tar evokes flows directly into Dannyl' s mana pool. Matthias Draconis is to stand directly in front of them, a binding spell will be administered to keep him from lashing out or running away, an intricate symbol will be burned into the surrounding ground around Matthias. Dannyl is to speak the words of evocation of a Magnosanguis, while doing so; Mor'tar would animate the two corpses flanking Dannyl and they would simultaneously lascerate Dannyl' s wrists, letting the blood flow down into the carvings in his palms. Mor'tar would in turn fill the carvings in his cheeks with tears – the manifestation of sorrow. This would activate the glyph encompassing Matthias, and his body would become the vessel for the Magnosanguis._

At Mor'tar request; Dannyl had recited his role many times. Mor'tar and Dannyl had scanned the area behind the University for an appropriate tree, location and what type of tree had to be taken into account. They concluded their hunt when they realised there were no suitable trees.

* * *

"I guess we are going to have to really start this from scratch, and plant our own tree" Mor'tar sighed. They were sitting in the Arch-Mages residence with Matthias in his usual captivity.

"That will take ages!" Dannyl breathed.

"When did you become so eager" Mor'tar said with an approving tone.

"Do you doubt my enthusiasm? I read through your grand plans for the library, and if it were not you who had created the plans, I would say they were far-fetched, and insane. But I whole-heartedly trust you, and I know you know exactly what you're doing"

Mor'tar knew this was not an assurance as much as it was a question.

"I do know what I'm doing Dannyl, and I understand your concern, I assure you; there is no hazard what-soever...Well, not for _us_" He inclined his head towards Matthias.

Dannyl laughed and spared the secluded man in the corner a glance, Mor'tar followed suit. Mor'tar watched Dannyl measure up the emotion in Matthias' face, and for a passing moment he wondered if it was sympathy he could see shaping on Dannyl' face, the features of compassion were quickly disturbed by a malevolent grin; and Mor'tar didn't know whether to feel guilt for corrupting Dannyl, or satisfaction. He knew that he would only find solace in believing that Dannyl was already corrupted.


	4. Adjustments

"There's been a change of plans" Mor'tar said with his head hanging over an accumulation of notes and open books.

"In what manner?" Dannyl puzzled.

"The ritual; we need to make some adjustments"

"What brought you to that conclusion….we haven't even tested it out, so how would you know there is a fault in the plans?"

"I just know. Do I sense some doubt in your voice Dannyl?"

"No, of course not. What are these 'adjustments'?" Dannyl changed the subject.

"Well firstly we are going to have to paint you up a bit, with some symbols and glyphs" He said carelessly.

Dannyl fiddled with his sleeves and glanced over to Mor'tar; "Sounds like fun? Where will the 'paintings' be applied?"

"Just around your torso, you can keep your pants on" He said with an ascending tone of humor.

"And what other changes are there?" Dannyl moved on.

Mor'tar turned around on his chair and regarded Dannyl with his customary half smile. "We will need another host, one with magical potential" He waited for Dannyl' response.

Dannyl' recognition came with a smile; "I see…. Who have you got in mind?"

* * *

Lord Garrel paced through the gardens of the University with a sense of authority. He liked to occasionally catch a novice acting up; it gave him the opportunity to implicate his high standing on the inferiors, and it always satisfied him to see them bow and accept any punishment he placed upon them. It was 'mingle time' as the teachers and novices liked to call it; the first hour after waking, everyone would wander the gardens chatting, and boasting over certain discoveries or findings. Lord Garrel had seen Lord Balkan approaching him meaningfully, and he dreaded the confidence in his stride; Lord Balkan had obviously proved him wrong about House Dagoth and whether it was allied with the Dwemer in the War of the First Council.

"Lord Garrel!" He piped up, eliminating Garrel' option of subtly avoiding the conversation.

"Lord Balkan" Garrel feigned a polite greeting.

Balkan' s feeling of elation was flamboyantly obvious. "I just wanted to let you know that I was right! The Dwemer did indeed ally with House Dagoth in the War of the First Council" He said excitedly.

"Oh, how enlightening, I would be quite fond to know of your sources" Garrel said with the hidden sting of defeat.

"It's the new intake of books the Arch-Mage has purchased for the library; there are so many new subjects that I've never read about before, some of the accounts on the history of Nirn are contradictory however to our old inventory-"

Balkan and Garrel conversed over the many different changes that the Arch-Mage had implemented.

Garrel then found an opportunity to voice his doubts on the leader of the guild. "I myself am quite keen on the new Arch-Mages ambitious renovations, but there are rumours going around that he _may_ be planning on legalising certain disciplines that Hannibal Travern had forbid"

Balkan considered Garrel. "Such un-savoury rumours achieve nothing Lord Garrel" He said in defence of the new Arch-Mage.

"Indeed…." Garrel was sour; "I must be off" Without further exchange Lord Garrel hastily ambled away, feeling satisfaction at getting to Balkan.

Garrel hadn't been as zealous as the other Magistrates when it came to the new Arch-Mage. He believed a Dunmer would not be suitable as ruler of the guild, he considered the whole affair immoral, and the rumours about Mor'tar'iit' crooked past had not helped him in filling the expectations that is placed upon every Magistrate; asking for their blind faith in the Arch-Mage, he could not just sit back and be happy with his leader' s intentions and 'ambitions'. But he had to admit to himself that he was grateful for the extensions being made to the University; it never did feel like a real University without actual classrooms, all there was was a podium, but no desks, it was one of very few anomalies in Hannibal Travern' otherwise seamless display of leadership. And he believed that if Travern had more time so consider his successor; he would _not_ have chosen Mor'tar'iit, it all happened under unfortunate and desperate circumstances. Travern had sacrificed himself to help in the defeat of Mannimarco, he chose Mor'tar'iit in the belief that he was the only one truly strong enough to kill the King of Necromancers, had he known that the malevolence of Mor'tar'iit could grow to rival Mannimarco over time, or even become greater. The fact that he had bested the King of Necromancers makes it all the more frightening; Mannimarco was an evil tyrant with the potential of taking over the guild, was his defeat something to be glad of, or has an even more formidable evil manifested upon his death; if Mor'tar'iit is as diabolical as I suspect, that would mean that the guild is already infiltrated.

Garrel arrived at his classroom, and addressed the novices that were ready at their desks. Garrel' s thoughts were distracted however.

_Mor'tar'iit had defeated the guilds worst enemy, but I do believe that not all is what it seems._


	5. The New Host

_If anyone is reading this, and likes it, please let me know. I dont want to waste my time on anything thats not worth wasting my time on ^_^_

* * *

Sonea had listened to Lord Garrel intently throughout the lesson, and had noticed his mind was occupied by separate thoughts. He repetitively forgot what he was discussing and would move on to the next subject without a conclusion to the current topic. The day before; Garrel had tasked the novices with picking their own ingredients and bringing them to class, they were to create a potion that would aid in their testing of Mysticism tomorrow; usually this was considered cheating, but the teachers had arranged it to be part of the test. Sonea brought samples of Clouded Funnel Cap and carrot, very few thought of using carrot, and she had a few disbelieving scorns thrown at her from the novices. When Garrel inspected each of the novices ingredients, Sonea was joyed to see an approving nod from Garrel upon examining her chosen constituents, he strode to the front of the class-room and announced Sonea' s genius to the class.

"Many of you have chosen identical ingredients, but only one of you have chosen the most potent" Garrel announced. Sonea swelled with pride as she knew it was her.

"Carrots! When properly broken down contain retinoic acid, and vitamin A, mixed with the anaesthetic in Clitocybe nebularis, it produces a formula that will expand your mana pool and increase the magnitude of any spell that fits in the category of Mysticism or Conjuration"

Most of the class turned their gaze to Sonea, as she returned the stare; the majority turned away.

* * *

Garrel' s relief when the classes had finished was short-lived; for when he stepped back out into the gardens he was approached by the Arch-Mage and his Apprentice.

Garrel' s stomach twisted; "Arch-Mage, I'm humbled by your presence" Garrel lied.

"Good evening Lord Garrel, how has the summer intake been treating you?" Replied Mor'tar'iit.

"They are young, and haven't matured just yet, but many have potential"

"How are you finding your new class-room?"

"Very sufficient, I've never felt so organised, I must express my gratitude" Garrel began.

"Wonderful! You can start of by assisting me in a guild project" Mor'tar said bluntly.

"Oh, what is that may I ask Arch-Mage?" Garrel stuttered.

"We are building a new library, it will be separate to the guild, just behind it, and also a private facility only accessible to high standing magicians like yourself"

Garrel considered Mor'tar for a moment.

"Sounds quite intriguing, but what role would I play, I am but Head of Alchemical studies, not an Architect" Garrel ventured.

"Yes, but this will not be a building, it will be a tree" Mor'tar explained.

Garrel opened his mouth to question but found he could shape no appropriate words.

"Come Lord Garrel; I will show you the plans" Mor'tar gestured for Garrel to follow. Dannyl followed silently behind; smothering a bold smile.

* * *

Mor'tar had shown Lord Garrel the plans for the new library, but taken care in not revealing the involvement of the Daedric Prince Hermaeus Mora realm. Garrel had been suspicious, but didn't have a valid excuse to exclude himself from the 'project'. Mor'tar had also shown him the plans for the ritual and guided him through it; he neglected to mention the necromancy involved, knowing Garrel would openly disapprove. While Lord Garrel was around; Mor'tar and Dannyl had tried to remain professional when it came to their relationship, Mor'tar had spoken to Dannyl as a magistrate was expected to speak to a novice. Garrel was surprised to learn of Dannyl' s integral part in the ritual.

"So what role does your apprentice play in this 'ritual'?" Garrel had asked. Fortunately; Mor'tar had anticipated the confrontation.

"This is somewhat of a lesson; Dannyl has expressed a particular interest in druidic practises"

Mor'tar had told Garrel that the ritual would be of a druidic nature, and that the ritual involved shaping the tree to make it hollow, and then accelerating its growth. While all this was true; Garrel wasn't aware of the true nature of the ritual.


	6. Reading the Enigma

_I Just wanted to express the bewilderment Dannyl experiences, when it comes to my main character. Mor'tar'iit._

**

* * *

**

**Reading the Enigma**

What lies beneath the decipherable, ink stained pages?

Is there a hidden cipher amid the obscurity?

Dannyl had puzzled over Mor'tar'iit for as long as he'd known him, what had pushed such a beautiful creature into such a macabre existence, and what had caused Dannyl to follow him into it, is it the influence of some sort of illusionary magick? Dannyl had killed, he had killed some who deserve death, and some who don't, and when he's alone, his conscience doesn't let him forget it. And why should it? People had lost their lives, all because of his obsession with gaining Mor'tar's approval, and being like him.

He couldn't understand it, he couldn't see past Mor'tar's façade of youthfulness, couldn't see beyond to the cold, murderous killer behind those dead eyes. But he wondered what had existed before the killer, was the malevolence a protective shell? A layer among many? If Dannyl were to dig deeper, what would he find? What guarded sentiment is waiting to be un-earthed. Somehow, he knew something lay beneath the murderer, something benevolent.

There was a natural poise about him, a measure of assurance more common to the higher, educated classes. No matter where he was, he carried himself as if he belonged there. Mor'tar's past had been a mystery from the beginning, but something told Dannyl that he wasn't born into nobility.

Dannyl could look at Mor'tar and part of him would perceive: young, not displeasing to the eye, a confidence that makes him magnetic. While another part of his mind would snap shut. Young? He'd hear his own harsh, pained laugh at that notion. Oh, no, not this man. He's old. He's walked under a blood-red moon in the dawn of time, he has. His face is the face of all that cannot be fathomed.

He's looking you in the eye Dannyl, and you'll never know what he's thinking. He is a rarity among mortals, a walking enigma, he could give you a full, genuine smile, and still manage to keep the deep, ancient sadness from surfacing.

Nobody truly knows Mor'tar'iit, and amid the people who have met him, swirls a maelstrom of diverse interpretations.

Not one of them accurate.


End file.
